


Migraines Are Awful

by CaryceJade



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Gen, Headaches, Headaches & Migraines, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Pre-Slash, Robbie just wants the pain to stop, Sportacus is worried, Stephanie has a good heart, They suck, Vomiting, pre-Sportarobbie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 01:41:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9944765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaryceJade/pseuds/CaryceJade
Summary: A migraine is never fun, but a little help can go a long way.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Literally written and posted it 1.5 hours with no editing.

Robbie knew that it was going to be a bad day. If it wasn't the shrieking of the kids, it was the weird wavy lines across his vision when he woke up on his bench, and the strange prickling sensation down the side of his face. 

He was getting a migraine. He didn't get them terribly often, but he knew from experience that he didn't have very long before the actual headache hit, and that it would be in his best interests to get home before then. 

If only he weren't so dizzy. He sighed and lowered his head into his hands for a moment. The resulting dimming of the light helped a little, but there was no way that he would be able to get back to his lair with his eyes closed. 

He whimpered as one particularly high-pitched shriek made a spike of pain run down the side of his face. He gasped at the intensity. This was probably going to be the worst migraine that he’d had in several years, and he hurt too much to even tell them to quieten down or to play somewhere else. 

The pain in his head kept up a steady twinging down the side of his face, and his stomach was trying to get in on the act. Oh no, this was going to be one of the _really_ bad ones, where he spent anywhere from several hours to the better part of a day sitting in his bathroom because he would start throwing up, and he knew that if he were anywhere else, he wouldn't be able to make it. He had made that mistake only once, and it was an experience that he did not care to repeat.  
He groaned as he sensed someone in front of him. “Are you okay, Robbie?” a voice that he, after a moment, recognised as the pink girl, asked. 

In spite of the fact that he wanted to throw out a snappy, sarcastic reply, all that he was able to do was whimper and shake his head slightly. 

“I’m going to go get Sportacus, okay?” she said quietly.

* * *

Honestly, Stephanie was scared. She had never seen someone in that much pain before. She knew that Sportacus was discussing something with her uncle, but this was fairly important.  
She burst into the house, and walked to her uncle’s study, knocking on the door. 

“Come in,” her uncle said. 

Walking in, she looked over at Sportacus, “There's something wrong with…”

Just then, his crystal started beeping, and he took off for the park, Stephanie following him. 

Stephanie was scared. She had never seen anyone that looked like they were in as much pain as Robbie was. She knew that if anyone would know _something_ about what to do to help, it would be Sportacus.

* * *

Sportacus' heart was in his throat. He had only caught Stephanie saying that something was wrong with someone, then his crystal had started beeping, and he had caught an image of Robbie on a bench with his head in his hands. 

Something in him clenched at that. He and Robbie had become friends over the past couple of months, to the point where his plots to run him out of town were mostly theatrics for the benefit of the kids, rather than a sincere desire to get rid of him. Not only that, if he truly wanted him gone, Sportacus had no doubt that he would succeed. 

He came upon the bench, and Robbie with his head in his hands, occasionally letting out a pitiful whimper. He sat down beside Robbie, laying a hand on his back. “Can you tell me what's wrong, Robbie?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

* * *

Robbie only barely heard Sportacus through the haze of pain and nausea. “Migraine.” he managed to get out. He slid the hand covering his eyes down over his mouth. The nausea was relentless, and he knew that he didn't have very long before he was going to be throwing up. 

“Nauseous?” Sportacus asked quietly, wincing in sympathy as a shriek from one of the children made Robbie gag behind his hand. 

“Stephanie,” Sportacus said gravely, “can you get the other children to play somewhere else, and to be extremely quiet?” Even though he phrased it as a request, Stephanie knew that it was more than that. She nodded and left. 

“Do you think,” Sportacus asked quietly, “that if we took it slowly, we could get to your bunker?”

Robbie shook his head slightly, a wave of pain going through it. “Too far.” He heaved behind his hand at a sudden powerful wave of nausea. “Oh, God.” He whimpered, absolutely miserable. “Don't go.”

Sportacus’ heart shattered at that pained request. “I won't,” he replied, rubbing gentle circles into Robbie's upper back. 

“Good.” Robbie retched violently a couple of times before throwing up. True to his word, Sportacus did not leave, but offered support in soothing words and a warm presence. 

When he finally stopped, Robbie sagged limp in Sportacus’ arms, too tired to really do much else. “Ladder,” Sportacus said _sotto voce_. Robbie needed somewhere dark and quiet, and, as he couldn't make it to his lair, he was going to bring such a place to him. 

“Robbie, can you walk a couple of feet? You can even keep your eyes closed, and I'm going to carry you the rest of the way.” At Robbie's nod, Sportacus helped him to stand. “Okay, I'm going to pick you up now. Just tell me if you think you're going to be sick.”

He picked Robbie up, grabbing a rung of the ladder with one hand. “Up” he said. 

When the reached the top, Robbie immediately threw up, unable to warn Sportacus. 

“Sorry... I'm sorry... made a mess... “

“It’s okay, Robbie,” Sportacus said softly. “Dim lights. Bed out” He nodded as the windows turned opaque, and the lights grew dim. “You can’t help being sick, and I'm not angry. Let’s get you into something more comfortable and in bed, okay? 

Robbie nodded, trusting Sportacus to guide him. He felt Sportacus touch his arm a moment later. “Let me help you change,” Sportacus said. “Just tell me if I make you uncomfortable.”

Efficiently, Sportacus had Robbie in a long-sleeved shirt and sleep pants. Slowly, he carried him to the bed, helping him into it, pulling a blanket over him. “I’m going to try to get some ibuprofen in you in a few minutes,” he said softly, cupping the back of Robbie's neck. 

As Robbie fell into a fitful doze, it occurred to him that Sportacus was actually a pretty good friend.


End file.
